Snowed In
by R.L. Woodson
Summary: Caught in a storm, the Winchesters are forced to stay the night in an abandoned house... with only one blanket. Short, fluffy Wincest. Written about two years ago.


**Title:** Snowed In

**Rating:** M

**Summary:** Caught in a storm, the Winchesters are forced to stay the night in an abandoned house... with only one blanket. Short, fluffy Wincest. Written about two years ago.

**Snowed In**

"Oh, poor Baby..." Dean gazed sadly out the window at his Impala, praying that the hail wouldn't damage his precious car.

"Dean, quit whining about the car and help me find something to keep warm. There's got to be some sort of blanket around here." Sam opened a trunk, dust billowing out. Sam coughed. They were squatting again, sadly. The storm had come out of nowhere, the sleet and hail so thick that Dean hadn't been able to see the lines on the road. This run down, abandoned house was the only shelter they could find in the middle of nowhere.

Dean pulled the leather jacket closer around himself and stepped away from the window, still grumbling. He succeeded in finding a bed frame with no mattress, two stubs of candle, and a pile of damp wood. "Yatzee!" he finally yelled, pulling one small threadbare blanket from a nearly empty cabinet.

"Any more of those in there?" Sam glanced nervously at the small blanket.

"Nope," Dean threw over his shoulder, concealing the small bit of fear that crept up on him. He knew what would happen. He would tease Sam about taking the blanket for himself, but end up giving it to Sam. He always put Sam's needs before his own. And Sam would feel guilty and suggest they share it. They had shared a bed before, but the blanket was so small. Being in that tiny space together... Dean didn't want to confront his less-than-platonic feelings he had for Sam. His brother would surely kick him out from under the blanket and leave him after the storm died down. And Dean couldn't handle that.

"Guess I'm taking it then," Dean teased halfheartedly, playing into the inevitable. What else could he do?

Sam snorted. "Fat chance." In his own corner, Sam worried. What if he accidentally cuddled up to Dean if they shared the blanket? What if he got a boner? His big brother would be disgusted with him. He might even leave during the storm and risk crashing the Impala.

The Winchesters busied themselves silently as the sky darkened, shivering in the unheated house. Dean saw Sam yawn. At the third yawn, he held out the blanket. "You take it, Sammy. It's scratchy anyway."

"But you're shivering worse than I am," Sam observed, following the natural progression of their conversation. "Should we just... share it?"

"Yeah, if your gigantor body doesn't hog most of it." Dean swallowed the little lump in his throat.

After putting it off for as long as possible, the brothers laid down on the rug and fixed the blanket over themselves. It covered them both, barely. They lay facing away from each other, backs flush together. Dean's breathing automatically synced up with Sam's. He heard Sam's get deeper and slower until he knew he was asleep. His face was always so serene in sleep, his skin smooth and jaw slack. Dean could feel himself getting half-hard. That was a bad sign.

It got worse when Sam shivered and rolled to face him, pressing against Dean's back for warmth. Dammit, Sam was hard too. Probably dreaming about sharing body heat with some chick and not his older brother. Dean became fully erect as Sam's hips twitched against his ass in his sleep. A moan escaped his throat and Sam shifted, eyes opening behind Dean.

"Dean? Are you awake?" Sam's voice was thick with sleep.

"No," Dean said quickly, his voice clear from no sleep.

Sam woke up then. "You suck at lying." Dean could hear a little smile in his voice. He tried to not breathe or move. Maybe Sam would go away if he played dead. After a few moments, it seemed like Sam was going to let it drop, when suddenly he pushed his hips into Dean's jean-covered ass again. Dean's moan had escaped before he knew he was moaning.

"You like that?" Sam's voice was deep, deeper than Dean had ever heard it. Dean shivered, a mix of the cold and his brother's breath in his ear chilling him to the bone. He said nothing again, unwilling to admit how painfully hard he was at that moment.

"I like it too," Sam said hesitantly.

With that, Dean turned awkwardly in the confines of the blanket. "Really?"

Sam slid his hand under Dean's jacket and shirt, fingers tracing up his spine. "Really."

That was all it took for Dean to tangle his fingers in his brother's hair and kiss him with all his might. How were Sam's lips so warm in this cold? Somehow during their kissing, Sam ended up between Dean's legs, on top of him, peppering his neck with kisses. Dean was really feeling warmer now, with Sam's hot hands all over him.

"Hey," he said breathily, "You can't be on top, I'm older."

Sam's weight pressed down on Dean and Sam _purposely_ rubbed his erection into Dean's, who let out a long moan. "I'm bigger," Sam nipped at Dean's collarbone under his shirt. "Besides," he rutted into Dean again, "do you really want me to stop?"

"God no, Sammy, keep doing that." Dean pulled off Sam's jacket almost violently as Sam continued rocking his hips. It's like the cold had disappeared. Sam was ripping Dean's clothes off too, and he felt absolutely fine. More like wonderful. That fire in his stomach grew until Sam pulled away.

Dean watched hungrily as Sam removed both the boys' jeans and underwear, revealing their leaking erections. Dean sat, fascinated, as Sam took control. Dean was usually the aggressive leader, the one most often in control, but Sam was the one pulling Dean's hair for a better angle to slip his tongue into his mouth. Dean was the one with his legs spread.

Sam spent a lot of time opening Dean up. Dean had never bottomed before and the only lubricant they had was saliva. Sam took his time, no matter how much "More, Sammy, please!" or "Faster, oh god Sammy, harder!" he heard. And when he finally pushed into Dean, he saw stars. Dean was so hot and tight, Sam could explode at any second.

They moved together, Sam holding Dean in a vice-like grip, one hand in his short hair and one arm around his neck. Dean desperately scratched at Sam's back, his ankles locked behind it. Sam was merciless and Dean drank it in, making the most obscene moans and whimpers.

The sex lasted maybe five minutes before Sam came hard inside Dean, and Dean came from the look on his baby brother's face. Both boys were sweating and hot under the thin blanket. Sam rolled off Dean and pulled him into his arms.

"Thanks for... warming me up," Dean breathed, heart still pumping vigorously.

"Thanks for... sharing the blanket," Sam chuckled, pulling Dean closer in his embrace.

In the morning, it was snowing, but the storm had passed. They had to shovel at least six inches of snow from around Baby's tires before she would move. Luckily, they often dug up graves, so they had the two shovels they needed.

They packed up all their things. Dean was first in the car, starting up Baby's engine and turning the heat on full blast. Sam slid into the passenger's seat and tossed the threadbare blanket in the backseat.

"Dude, you really want to bring that thing with us?"

Sam shrugged. "Good memories." He smiled. "And who knows, we might get cold again later." Dean glanced at Sam, eyebrow twitching upward suggestively.

Dean grinned. "I'm feeling chilly already."


End file.
